


Intermezzo

by Vanimelda4



Series: The Sun always waits for the Moon. [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29633991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanimelda4/pseuds/Vanimelda4
Summary: The first time John and Sherlock meet face to face again after the events of 'The Sun always waits for the Moon."You don't have to read the first part to understand this one but I do advise it.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: The Sun always waits for the Moon. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177373
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

The world outside the window of Sherlock's Eton room is gray and dull.  
A dense covering of clouds obstructs the sun and most of its light while a light drizzle of rain is swept this way and that across the almost deserted streets hounded on by the late November winds  
Everything outside is damp, soggy, dark and depressing. 

Sherlock sighs.

He never thought there would come a day where he'd miss the Indiana summers. 

But he does. 

Immensely so. 

In his memories those days spent there are full of light and warmth and happiness and sunshine and...... 

He sighs again. 

Who is he kidding.  
He misses John. 

And now that he is so close to actually seeing John again he finds that he, paradoxically, misses him even more.

It's been over a year since the last time he got to see him. 

John has finally started his military training. The courses are tough, demanding and time consuming and, mixed with Sherlock's study schedule in England, that leaves them little time where both their schedules allow for them to get together. Whenever Sherlock is able to come home to Indiana John is usually stuck at school and vise versa.  
The hardly ever even have time to call. 

The last time Sherlock spoke to John on the phone was......about two weeks ago he reckons. 

There have been texts here and there but with the time difference between them....

It's been hard.  
And lonely.

But, as luck would have it, John has been spending the last three weeks enduring a tough training course in Germany. 

Yesterday was his last day there and today he'll be making his way back to the States....well....not directly.  
He'll stop by England and Eton first. He'll spend the night there and then he'll catch his actual flight to America tomorrow. 

John's coming over. 

To Eton. 

To Sherlock. 

And he can hardly wait. 

He looks at the clock. It's 3:20pm but the sun outside already appears to be setting. Or...at least....that's what he gathers from what he can make out of it behind the miserable rain and dismal clouds. It doesn't matter. He'll have his own sun again soon enough.  
Sherlock thinks he probably would not be surprised if, upon seeing John, the actual sun outside would decide today was worth it after all and halt its steady descent behind the roofs of the buildings across the street and would instead start rising again. 

He feels a soft smile forming on his face.  
He can't help it.  
In an hour and 40 minutes John will be here.  
He closes his eyes and sighs for a third time.  
It is a contented sigh this time.  
And as he inhales again he can almost smell the grass of a freshly mowed lawn on a hot summer's day.

*******************************************

There's a knock on Sherlock's door and when he opens it he only barely suppresses the urge to pinch himself to make sure he's not dreaming.  
He's had this dream before. 

John.

John is here. 

Actually here. 

At his door.

And Sherlock isn't dreaming this time. 

John looks good. 

Granted, he's always looked good, but military training has not been a bad choice for John Watson.  
Not at all.  
His muscles are even more pronounced and they accentuate his short but sturdy frame in all the right places, he has a bit of a tan still and it brings out the bright blue of his eyes and even the short cropped hair is a very good look on him.  
John has grown up.  
In all the right ways.  
He's still in army gear: army boots, a pair of camo pants and a tight t-shirt. A duffel bag is slung over his shoulder and a relaxed smile is on his face. 

“Hey, you”, John says.

Sherlock doesn't quite know what to say. He's starting to realize that he had kind of forgotten what being this close to John was like. How blinding and all consuming it can be.  
Especially now that John is......like this.....so much more at ease......so much more relaxed.....so much more himself......just....much more of everything.  
He feels grossly inadequate in comparison.

So instead of talking he gestures for John to come inside.  
John gives him another dazzling smile as he passes him by.  
Sherlock tries to remember how closing a door works. 

***************************************

Sherlock feels awkward. Extremely self conscious. Out of place.....maybe....even though they are in his own dorm room. 

He is suddenly highly aware of the fact that he is just wearing the same pair of jeans he usually wears and a plain black t-shirt. 

Should he have dressed up for John? 

Is that what boyfriends do? 

He's never had a boyfriend before. How's he supposed to know what boyfriends do....

He feels John's eyes on him as they both stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.  
He probably should have ironed his shirt at the very least.....  
He realizes he doesn't own an iron and starts to panic just a little bit more. 

John throws him another dazzling smile.  
Sherlock quickly looks down at his feet.  
He's not even wearing shoes at the moment.  
It makes him feel even worse. 

Why is having John over here in England so different from being with John back in Indiana?  
Have they really changed so much in just a year?  
Have things between them changed?  
Sherlock doesn't know.  
He wants John just as much as he has always done.  
Craves him.  
But now that John is actually here......he is hesitant to just reach out.  
Seeing John like this, on the road to the peak of his potential, he is reminded of everything John has written to him in his emails over the last couple of years.  
About all the other boys in his group.....or team.....or class.....or whatever the correct army term is.  
Over the last year John has surrounded himself with bravado, machismo and waves of testosterone.  
Sherlock is all too aware of his own slim frame, pale skin and seeming inability to make friends.  
What if John finds that they are no longer compatible. 

John is still looking at him but the smile has temporarily gone from his face. He's giving Sherlock a scrutinizing look.  
Sherlock used to love when John looked at him like that.  
Now, he finds it unsettling.  
He's probably been quiet for a bit too long. 

“How was your flight?”, he asks. Just to fill the silence between them. Silences between them used to be familiar and comfortable but this one is new, different and it gets on Sherlock's nerves. 

John shrugs.  
“It was fine”, he says, “too long.”  
He gives Sherlock another knowing smile. As if Sherlock is supposed to know what that smile means.  
He doesn't.  
Have things really changed between them after all?  
Will this be the final time John decides he's worth visiting.  
He is suddenly reminded of all those lonely years before John came out to his porch that night with his rumpled shirt and untied shoes.  
That night........it changed Sherlock's life forever.  
He can't go back to the darkness he was in before. He just can't. 

He also can't be in this room alone with John.  
It's just making everything far too obvious.  
In just a couple of seconds even John will see it and then he will.....

No. 

“Would you like a tour of Eton?”, Sherlock asks. 

John looks surprised, caught off guard.....a bit hurt......maybe.....the look is gone before Sherlock can make anything of it.  
All too soon the familiar smile is back on his face. He throws his duffel somewhere in a corner and shrugs.  
“Sure, I'd love to.”

*************************************************

This late in the afternoon there are hardly any people left on campus. Sherlock is glad for it.  
He doesn't think he could handle their scrutinizing looks. 

He shows John all his favourite places and John seems genuinely interested.  
Asking questions, commenting....Sherlock is finally starting to relax just a little bit.  
Maybe he's making too big of a deal out of this.  
Maybe he's blowing everything out of proportion.  
Maybe he should just ask John if....

“Hey, Sherlock!”

Oh no. 

O God no. 

Out of all the people here on Eton.  
Out of every single person.  
Why him.  
Why now. 

Sherlock turns himself around gingerly.  
“Hey, Victor.”

“What are you doing out here this late?”, Victor asks, “I figured you'd be studying in your room today.”

“Oh.....you know.......just......”, Sherlock lets the sentence peter out. How is he even going to reply? He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what John wants him to say.  
If only he had just had the courage to ask him.....if only.......  
He's just so terrified of what the answer might be. 

Suddenly Victor focuses his attention on John who, somehow, seems to be standing closer to Sherlock than he had been before. 

“Oh...”, Victor says, “I didn't realize you were here with somebody. Who's this?”

But before Sherlock even has time to think of a somewhat appropriate answer to that question John answers for him.  
The tone of his voice is harsh, his posture tense and he stares Victor down unblinking.  
“I'm his boyfriend”, John says. 

“Oh....I......right.....I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Sherlock.”  
It seems Victor is at a loss for words too now. 

Once again it's John who answers.  
“He does.”

John's sea-blue gaze pierces Victor to the ground. There is a smile around his lips but it's a tense and ugly thing. Sherlock has never seen John look like that before. 

“I.....erm.....”, Victor stammers again, “I probably.....erm....I should be going.”  
He takes a small step back. 

John _still_ hasn't blinked. 

Victor makes a hasty retreat.  
“See you around, Sherlock?” he tries when he leaves.

“Yeah, of course”, Sherlock replies because they go to the same school, they are bound to bump in to each other at some point again.  
At his side John tenses up even more.  
Sherlock is even more confused on where he stands with John than he has been before. 

***********************************************************

When they return to Sherlock's dorm they decide to order in some pizza and watch a movie.  
Sherlock has hardly eaten anything. His stomach is in knots.  
He doesn't know what to say to John.  
How to ask what he wants to ask.  
If they are still alright.  
If everything between them is still the same.  
Well....of course it's not the same....neither of them are the same people they were a year ago but.....he just wants to know if John still feels for him what he feels for John. 

Whenever he looks at John he can still feel this warmth starting in his lower abdomen and coursing through his body and veins like liquid sunlight.  
Warming him up from the inside out in strange but pleasant ways.  
Looking at John makes him want to touch John.  
Makes him want John to touch him.  
To feel those short and sturdy but surprisingly tender fingers draw lines on his skin.  
Coax him out of his carefully constructed shell.  
He wants to kiss John.  
He wants to.....

John sits by his side on Sherlock's old sofa and watches the movie. 

The movie is already halfway over and Sherlock realizes he's not really been paying attention to any of it.  
Tomorrow at noon John will leave again.  
He might leave for good this time.  
From the corner of his eye he can see his bed pressed up against the far wall of his small dorm room.  
They haven't even discussed where John will sleep tonight.  
He kissed Victor on that bed.  
Only the one time though.  
What were the odds of running into Victor today.  
Today of all days.  
Victor didn't want him either.  
But John did.  
John does.  
At least.......that's what he thought anyway.  
He finds he's afraid.  
Afraid of losing John.  
Of losing everything.  
Losing himself in the process.  
John hasn't even touched him once since he got here.  
He looks down at his legs where his hands lay useless in his lap.  
He should at least have worn his good jeans today......

Next to him John suddenly lets out a long sigh.  
Sherlock looks at him from the corners of his eyes.  
He hopes John is just reacting to something in the movie and he's not sighing because....

“Sherlock, I'm sorry”, John says. 

Sherlock's blood runs cold. He finds he can no longer breathe. His tongue thick and useless stuck to the roof of his suddenly far too dry mouth.  
He does not look at John and he does not reply. 

“I'm sorry I outed you to that boy like that”, John continues, “I didn't mean to. It wasn't my place.”  
What is John talking about?  
Sherlock is confused but somehow he is able again to find his voice. 

“I'm pretty sure Victor already knew I'm gay”, he says. Once again his eyes flick to his bed. 

He kissed Victor on that bed. 

Kissing Victor had been nothing like kissing John.  
Kissing John feels like coming home, like drinking liquid sunlight imbued with honey, like....

Next to him John is so tense now that Sherlock might as well be sitting next to a statue.  
The movie still drones on in the background but neither of them are paying attention anymore. 

“You know that boy likes you, right?” John says. 

Victor likes him? 

What is this nonsense? 

What is John on about? 

Why is he bringing this up now? 

And then Sherlock finally dares to look at John again. Just to at least try and make some sense out of the absolute disaster this whole visit has become.  
John is not looking at him.  
John is looking at Sherlock's bed.  
Once again is expression is tense, cold and unblinking. 

At first Sherlock doesn't understand.  
Is John mad?  
At him?  
But....why......  
And then he does understand.  
Or.....at least he thinks he does.  
He needs to make absolutely sure that what he thinks is correct. 

“Wait”, Sherlock says, “are you jealous?”

“No.”  
The reply is immediate but beside him he feels John relax just a small bit.

“You were, weren't you?”

“I don't get jealous.”

And as the corners of John's mouth turn up in just the barest hint of a smile Sherlock is now absolutely sure he's on the right track.  
“You were jealous of Victor Trevor.”

John shakes his head.  
“I don't get jealous. Possessive maybe. Not jealous.”

Sherlock gives John's new physique a careful but appreciative look.  
“Believe me, you have absolutely no reason to be jealous of Victor Trevor.”

“Possessive”, John corrects him again. 

And it is in that moment, as that mischievous smile Sherlock has known since the both of them were just children spreads over his best friend's face, that he knows absolutely nothing has changed between them. 

They are still the same.  
Both of them are.  
And where Sherlock had thought he had been the only one with insecurities it appears that John, stunning and perfect John, surprisingly has plenty of his own. 

“I've missed you”, Sherlock says. And he means in the past year, but he also means in the past hour.  
Just assuming things has already almost made him miss out on John once in his life, he can't believe he almost made the same mistake twice. 

But, then again.....he's never really been good at this.  
Talking about his feelings.  
John has always been the only one who was able to bring that out in him.  
And after having been without John for a year......he's been out of practice.  
But it's starting to come back to him now.  
The familiarity.  
The warmth and light.  
The constant wanting. 

John is now almost fully relaxed by his side. There is a full smile on his face. Dimple and all.  
Sherlock has missed that dimple as well. 

“I've missed you too”, John says. And then: “can I touch you?”

Sherlock slowly nods. 

Just a year ago John wouldn't have asked.  
He would have known.  
It seems they are finding their way back to each other again.  
Slowly but surely. 

_The sun never really disappears_ , Sherlock thinks, _he just waits patiently for the moon to come out because he likes looking at him_.

They seem words from ages ago.  
But they still ring true today.  
He should have taken them to heart back then.  
John will always wait for him.  
No matter when, no matter where.  
He will wait for him to make up his mind, blow away the dark clouds that obstruct his mind from time to time and accept the light John is willing to give to him so freely. 

John's fingers tenderly trace his cheek bones, the lines of his jaw, his chin.....

Sherlock can't help but smile too.  
But he also, somehow, feels like crying, John is always able to bring out so much in him.  
So much of what he carefully hides away when John isn't around.  
Without the sun you can't see the moon but when the sun is there to illuminate it......it shines all the brighter for it. 

“Sherlock....”, John says. And there is a question in that one word. Sherlock knows what it is. They have never needed words anyway.  
They know each other.  
They still know each other.  
Know each other's hearts and minds and no amount of time or distance between them is able to change that. 

So Sherlock just answers in the same way he did over a year ago.  
“Yes', he says.  
And again: “Yes......yes........yes.....”

He would have continued saying yes until the end of the world but all too soon John's eager lips steal the words from him.  
John tastes like honey and sunlight and to Sherlock there is nothing more perfect in the world.  
All too soon John's hands find a new path to trace. New skin to rediscover and own again.  
Fingertips on the back of his neck, palms on his lower back, his abdomen.....always gentle and warm and full of love. 

They miss the second half of the movie too.  
Sherlock couldn't care less.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is just fluff.

Sherlock and John are lying together on Sherlock's bed.   
Once they dared being close and intimate with each other again they also found it very hard to stop.   
They have removed their shoes but have kept the rest of their clothes on.   
Outside the sky has gone dark and the rain still comes down relentlessly but to Sherlock the sound and sight of it is no longer something dreary and depressing.  
With John's strong arms around him he now finds that there's something comforting and familiar to the monotone sound of the drops hitting the windows and walls of his room. 

They've been silent for a good long while again but the silence between them has also gone from something uncomfortable and heavy to serene, peaceful and known.   
Sherlock finds himself drifting off to sleep but in the end it is the sound of John's voice that drags him back from the borders of blissful unconsciousness. 

“This is nice”, John says. 

Sherlock just hums in agreement, his eyes are still half closed as his head rests comfortably on John's muscular chest. 

John chuckles.   
The sound is warm and pleasant as it rumbles around beneath Sherlock's ear and makes itself a home within his head and heart. 

For a moment Sherlock thinks John will leave it there and will let himself drift off to sleep to the sound of the downpour outside together with Sherlock. He's had a long day of traveling after all. But then John speaks again. 

“I was so nervous to come here today”, he says. 

Sherlock raises a questioning eyebrow and tilts his head upwards in order to try and make out the expression on John's face.   
Why would John be nervous? 

John still looks relaxed, happy and content.   
A soft smile forms on his lips when he sees Sherlock look at him. 

“With you back here at Eton this year”, John says, “you know......with your peers.....clever, well-off and handsome boys.......I was afraid that, perhaps, you had met someone more on your level........I don't know.....”

Sherlock has no earthly idea why John would even think something like that and so he tells him just that.   
“Why on earth would you think something like that?”

John chuckles again but there is a slightly nervous edge to the sound this time.   
“I know...I know....”, he says, “I was just worried that......maybe I wasn't.......you know.......”

Sherlock still doesn't know and so he just waits patiently for John to finish his thought and in the end John does just that: 

“You know.....like that Victor guy”, he says. 

This time it's Sherlock's turn to laugh although it end up coming out more as a snort than a laugh.   
“Believe me”, he says, “there is nothing to worry about where Victor is concerned.”

Something in his tone of voice must give something away because underneath his own body he feels John's strong muscles tense up ever so slightly. 

“Did.....something happen between you and Victor?”, John asks. 

Sherlock sees no reason to lie.   
Not to John. Never to John.   
And so he ends up telling him the truth. No frills or embellishments. Just the honest, down to earth, truth. 

“This was before we got together”, he says, “Victor and I kissed.”

He feels John tense up even more and the arm currently wrapped around him pulls him towards John's chest just a fraction tighter. 

“We only kissed one time”, Sherlock hastily continues, “and he never called me after that or anything....so.....”

John is silent for a couple of moments. Sherlock lets him be silent and think things over. 

“Did you call him?” John finally ends up asking. 

“No.”

John chuckles again. This time the sound is once more light and natural. More 'John'. 

“Are there any more boys that you kissed or that I should know about?” John asks. 

“No.”

“No to which one? The kissing or the knowing about?”

Sherlock snorts again.   
“Both.”

“Good”, John says by now the tension has completely left his body, “because I will threaten every single one of them.”

This time they both laugh and John presses a soft kiss to the top of Sherlock's head.   
“You're my property, Sherlock Holmes”, he says. 

“I'm not property.”

John kisses him again.   
“No”, he says, “you're not. But I do like calling you mine.”

******************************************

Another comfortable silence falls between them. Sherlock briefly contemplates going to sleep again but then he'd have to miss out on the feeling of John's fingers drawing lazy patterns on his back and the rise and fall of John's chest beneath his head as he calmly breathes in and out.   
So he looks for a way to keep himself awake.   
In the end he settles for conversation: 

“How are your parents.”

John doesn't reply immediately. As Sherlock looks up at him he can see John worrying his bottom lip nervously. He's never seen John do that before. He figures it must be a new habit he's picked up in the army.   
John catches him looking and the nervous gesture transforms into a warm smile. 

“My dad's fine”, he says, “my mother.....she still hasn't accepted.....us.   
I'm allowed to talk about you but only if I pretend we're just friends and nothing more.   
It drives me crazy. I wish she would just realize that this.....us......is not something that's going away.   
At least.....not to me anyway.”

Sherlock is slightly taken aback by John's words.   
To think that earlier that day he had been worrying John might not see a future with them together anymore. And now to hear him say so blatantly clear that he does and.....not just that....but he doesn't really see that future ending....ever.....  
It's humbling, amazing and incredible, slightly heart-stopping and hard to wrap his head around.   
It's seems bigger than the both of them and yet so personal. So them. So.....

“I wish you didn't have to go tomorrow”, he says. 

This time it's John's turn to look at him questioningly. 

“I'm afraid I'll forget once you leave”, Sherlock says. 

John still looks confused.   
“Forget? About what?”

Sherlock waves the hand not currently trapped between his own and John's body around vaguely and says:   
“This.”

What he means is: this, them, being close, understanding each other without speaking, knowing that there is a deep connection between them that has been growing for years and defies any explanation, hearing John's voice rumble through his muscular chest beneath his ear before the actual sound of it reaches him, John's adoring eyes looking solely at him because for them there is nothing else in the world that matters, the knowing, oh the knowing, that John is his and close by and.....and......

He finds he's having a hard time expressing everything that's in his heart and mind and so he just waves his hand around again helplessly and says:   
“This.”

But somehow John does seem to understand the things he finds hard to say.   
John always does. 

John's gentle fingers find their way underneath Sherlock's shirt and come to rest on the bare skin of his waist. 

“This?” John asks. His voice soft, a whisper that is felt more than heard above the sound of the rain. 

Sherlock nods silently. 

John's fingers continue their journey and soon find themselves a new home on Sherlock's arm where it is draped over John's chest. 

“This?”

This time John does not wait for Sherlock to reply. His fingers gently graze his skin as they travel up still.   
A soft and reverent caress along his neck, his cheek. 

“This?”

Finally John's fingers come to rest on the plump curve of Sherlock's lower lip.   
Sherlock closes his eyes and kisses them. Every part of John's skin tastes sun-kissed and warm. 

“This”, he replies before lifting himself up and covering John's lips with his own. 

***************************

“I can help you with remembering”, John says after a while.   
Sherlock has, by now, given up all thoughts of sleep. Sleeping while John is still here and close enough to touch is an utter waste of time. 

“How?”, he asks. At this point they are both lying face to face on their sides, not an easy feat on Sherlock's narrow bed but they made it work somehow, this new position also helps with staring at John's lovely face.

At the moment John smiles that soft smile that is overflowing with sunlight even in the dead of night.   
“Give me your hand”, he says. 

Sherlock does and with his own John carefully places Sherlock's outstretched fingers on the side of his strong sun-tanned neck.   
“Do you feel that?”, John asks. 

For a moment Sherlock is puzzled as to what he is supposed to feel. There are so many sensations there. The texture of John's skin, the soft dusting of hairs that covers it, the warmth of the living body underneath that he so adores....the.......and then he does feel it:   
the steady beat of a pulse. Blood pumping through veins and arteries. Telling him that John is still here and real and alive.   
Comforting, safe and secure.   
John stretches out his own hand now and puts it on the side of Sherlock's neck as well.   
“Whenever you feel alone”, he says, “remember this. This feeling. This sensation. The beating of both of our hearts......that beat only for each other. And when you don't have mine close enough to feel, just know that it beats in time with yours”

“I didn't know you were such a romantic.”

“Only when I'm with you.”

Sherlock feels his own heart speed up just a little bit at John's gentle words spoken in the calm, honest quiet only reserved for the dead of night and John smiles another radiant smile as he feels the effect his words have on Sherlock beneath the tips of his fingers. 

********************************

John eventually does fall asleep. Sherlock can't really blame him. He must be exhausted.   
Sherlock does not want to sleep. He plans to spend the rest of the night memorizing the sound and pattern of John's heartbeat. He finds that the longer he listens to it the more he is convinced he can hear words echoing in between the beats.   
Like a message in morse-code meant for him and him alone: 

_thump thump_   
_thump thummp thump thump_   
_thummp thummp thummp_

He ends up falling asleep before he is able to decipher what it means.

************************************

John is on his way to the airport. Sherlock had wanted to go with him but John had been adamant that Sherlock stayed behind and not skip any classes. 

“Your education is important”, John had said, “we'll see each other again before you know it.”

There is no telling when they will see each other again. 

Sherlock is following a boring lecture on biochemistry at the moment. He's having a hard time concentrating on anything else but the pulse beneath his skin.   
If he closes his eyes he can still feel his own heart beat in time with John's.  
He can still feel John.   
John is right.   
There is this unseen tie that binds them together.   
He feels it too.   
Right there.   
In every single beat of his heart and the spaces in between.   
There are words.   
Only now is he slowly starting to make them out amidst the chaos of all of his own insecurities and doubts.   
They had been very soft in the past, almost silent.   
Barely audible. Barely anything. Just a hint of a thought.   
But they have been steadily growing over time.   
And he is sure of them now.   
Has learned their language in a way he never thought himself possible.   
They are new and exciting.   
They are for the future.   
They are about the future.   
He can hear them.  
They sing to him and whisper to him. 

_thump thump_

“This”, his heart says

And

“This”

And 

“This”

And

“I love you.”

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by two things:   
> First: The song "Hold Me" by Daniel Docherty.  
> And Second: When, in Gaelic, you want to tell someone you love them you can use the phrase: "A chuisle mo chroí". Which translates literally to "The pulse of my heart."   
> This is, without a doubt, the most beautiful declaration of love I have ever heard. 
> 
> As always: a million thanks to anyone who reads this.

**Author's Note:**

> Eton probably doesn't has on-campus dorms and this is also probably not how military school works.  
> This is why I put "alternate universe" in the tags. 
> 
> I used a bit of this chapter in another story of mine. So if you've read that one too part of this might be familiar.  
> It was supposed to be in this story from the get go but it had a bit of a trial run earlier it seems.....  
> oh well.....
> 
> As always: my eternal gratitude to anyone who reads what I write.  
> Comment if you feel so inclined. 
> 
> I am planning to add more parts to this series.....it is a series now.....I just don't have any actual schedule to do it on. I wrote this part alone bit by bit, off and on, over the course of three months.....such is my life.....I don't have time is what I'm saying.


End file.
